An Unexpected Road Trip: The World is Not in Your Books and Maps
by FarGreenCountrySwiftSunrise
Summary: Professor Bramble Baggins is happy teaching folklore and linguistics at Hobbiton University and has no need of adventures, thank you. When Gandalf arrives on her doorstep with a pack of Dwarves and a deal she can't refuse, she rushes into one of the strangest road trips across America. Modern AU, Fem!Bilbo, and Bagginshield.
1. Chapter I: A Lecture on Dragons

An Unexpected Road Trip

The World is Not in Your Books and Maps

Summary: Professor Bramble Baggins is happy teaching folklore and linguistics at Hobbiton University and has no need of adventures, thank you. When Gandalf arrives on her doorstep with a pack of Dwarves and a deal she can't refuse, she rushes into one of the strangest road trips across America from her little university town of Hobbiton in Indiana, to the Last Homely House of the Cumberland Gap, and to the Misty Mountains of the Carolinas. Modern AU, Fem!Bilbo, and Bagginshield.

Beta is the terrific TriciaOakenshield on .

A/N: Bramble inspired by notbecauseofvictories on Tumblr for her Angel Coulby photo set. Special thanks to The Hobbit Movies on Google+ recommended by for transcripts for the films.

Chapter I: A Lecture on Dragons

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Thorin Oakenshield did not entirely trust Gandalf, but he had researched Professor Baggins extensively enough that he felt somewhat comfortable asking her for help. She was working on her doctorate in Folklore with a thesis on Dwarf folktales and their connections with folktales of other cultures. The Hobbit had been working on her thesis for two years already since there was so little available to non-Dwarves. Professor Baggins had been teaching at Hobbiton University since her undergraduate years and already had a doctorate in Hobbit History. She was _the _dragon folklore expert in the Western Lands, only to be rivaled by elven professors in the Old Eastern Lands across the Atlantic. Admittedly, she was the _only one _on the continent, but Thorin could not be choosy as he was in desperate need of her expertise.

It was because of this Thorin was trying to sit in on a lecture of Professor Baggins. He could not find his way around the campus, though it was among the smaller universities he had visited. After asking for directions twice, Thorin entered into a small, empty theater with about a hundred seats. After trying three seats, Thorin realized all of the seats were either broken or were made of sinking cushions. He sat in the back and pulled out the sliding desk top at the side of his chair.

A barefoot woman carrying a large stack of papers and books practically danced into the room as she bobbed her head to the music on her I-Pod. She slapped the stack she was carrying on a table at the front of the room along with a computer bag, a brown jacket, and brown high-heeled shoes.

"Oye, you!" the woman said, pointing at Thorin, "You know the rule: first in sits in the front row for shoe duty."

"What?" Thorin said.

The woman pulled out her ear buds. "Have you honestly not been paying any attention in these classes, sir?"

"Seeing as this is the first time I have been on this campus, no, I have not," Thorin said.

"Oooh," the woman said as she looked properly horrified, "I am so sorry. This class is a blow-off basic course so I don't get to know my students very well. I am so sorry for being rude. I can go fetch you some tea or…"

"Apology accepted," Thorin said, "Nothing else is necessary."

The woman sighed in relief. "Thank you. I am sorry to give such a bad first impression of Hobbiton University." She walked to the back of the room and held out her hand. "Professor Baggins at your service."

"Um… Thor Foster at yours," Thorin said as he shook the Hobbit's hand. She had a good grip and her hand had just the right amount of heat.

"Pleasure to meet you. Now if you will excuse me, I am going to be fighting with the blasted projector," Professor Baggins said.

Thorin did not realize people actually skipped around a room instead of walking past the age of five.

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The students arrived within the next five minutes. Most were barefoot like their professor. It was a jolly group of Hobbits who laughed and spoke on cheery topics such as the most recent engagements, the latest movie, or the last lacrosse game. They all became silent almost exactly at the time class started without prompting from their professor.

"Alright, time to return test grades." Professor Baggins turned back tests to students as she called out their names. "I am disappointed in the essays on the different languages of elves and how they developed. Truly horrifying things were in these tests, let me tell you."

Professor Baggins flipped off the main lights in the room and began her PowerPoint. "The Great Worms of the North: A Brief History of Dragons".

Thorin resisted slamming his head against the desk. Of course the day he came would be about dragons.

Baggins began a round of questioning of her students. "Quick recap: what distinguishes the different races of Middle-Earth we have discussed so far? You, ginger with the lovely green vest. Elves."

"Um… they can live for thousands of years," the boy said, "They are the First-Born. Very pretty. Um… their magic is generally nature based with a particular slant towards healing and some can even communicate telepathically. They don't have many children."

"Very good. Name?" Professor Baggins took down the student's name. "Okay, Dwarves. You in the purple shirt and green skirt."

"Um… they all have beards, even the women?" the girl said.

Professor Baggins looked ready to snap a retort before taking several deep breaths. "Dwarves, elves, Men, and Hobbits all basically look the same. They are generally between slightly under five feet and a little over six feet when all grown up. Dwarves are not like those in that Disney movie, students."

The girl slumped in her seat. Baggins took another deep breath. "May we speak after class so we can broaden your understanding? I think you might like some stories I have." The girl nodded.

Another girl who wore a blue skirt and yellow shirt raised her hand. "They were created by Aulë to be resistant to the evils of… Morgoth." The girl shuddered at saying the name of the greatest evil. "They are good at mining and crafting. They prefer to live in the mountains. Despite popular belief, beards are not necessary. There is, as far as we know, one woman for every four men. It is hard for Dwarves to conceive. They have their own language and don't like to talk to outsiders."

"Good," Baggins said before taking down the girl's name, "Mortal Men."

One of the male Hobbits snickered and muttered, "Bunch of no good louts."

Professor Baggins jumped off the stage and stood in front of the Hobbit. Her voice was low and steady as she spoke. "You know, compared to Mortal Men, Hobbits are slothful. Mortal Men build great cities, write beautiful literature and music, tame horses, develop the technology which allows you to text your friends when you think my back is turned, and they explore the world almost as much as the elves had in the days of old. To top it all off, they are immune to magical effects unlike the rest of us Free Folk. What do Hobbits do? Garden and eat."

The male Hobbit slunk in his seat. His friends looked down and away from the Professor.

"The lot of you will be speaking to me after class," Professor Baggins said, "Now, since I seemed to have taken up the conversation, I will give extra credit to whoever can tell me what the Doom of Men means."

A lad near Thorin raised his hand. "Doom doesn't necessarily mean a bad thing. It originally just meant fate. The fate of Men is to die. It used to be called the Gift of Men because the elves and Dwarves have such long life spans; they have to watch all the things they love pass away."

Professor Baggins smiled slightly. "Thank you for stating it so respectfully." She jumped back onto the stage and clapped her hands. "Hobbits!"

The class laughed and threw out answers to the professor. She eventually held up her hands and the class settled down. "Those are the four main classes of Free People in Arda. There are of course, others such as Ents and Eagles. However, we will get to those mysterious folk later. For now, we are going to be dealing with the forces created by darkness. The most fearsome of these are dragons."

The professor launched into the beginning of lecture starting with the creation of dragons by Morgoth (originally known as Melkor). He created the dragons from all of the worst evils of elves, Men, and Dwarves allowing them to be creatures of destruction. How exactly was unknown, with rumors from the corruption of Eagles, to just general nastiness combined from all the Free People. All that was known for certain was that Morgoth could not make something of his own, so he must have corrupted another living creature.

Professor Baggins spoke on the general main physical traits of dragons for some time before switching to specifics. Dragons were either of fire or of cold. Under both categories, they were further subdivided into slithering, walking, and flying. How they breed was unknown, but they certainly did create offspring.

"I will now read from the account of Thorin Oakenshield. Does anyone in the class know who he is?" Professor Baggins said.

The class was confused. Thorin looked around, but it seemed no one, not even the professor, recognized him. Professor Baggins took a book from the table in the front.

"Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór was there during one of the last great attacks of dragons in the more southern regions of the world. This is in reference to Smaug during his attack of the Lonely Mountain, where he supposedly still sleeps. 'The first we heard was a noise like a hurricane coming down from the north. The pines on the mountain creaked and cracked in a hot, dry wind…' Skip. '…. Airborne fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks…' Skip. Skip. 'Furnace with wings'. Rather nasty things, dragons. His account does not even go over how dragons blood is poisonous, the foul smell of dragons is like burning sulfur and slime, the way dragons voices and eyes work together to put their victims under a spell to surrender to a dragon's will, or (most importantly) their greed."

A male Hobbit ran into the room. "Sackville-Baggins!" he hissed.

"Shoes!" Professor Baggins said. The student by the table at the front tossed at Baggins' head her shoes and her jacket. She stepped into her shoes as she slipped on her brown jacket. The other students began putting on shoes and straightening ties.

Professor Baggins put up her curly, black hair into a messy bun while she continued her lecture. "Dragons are the greediest of all creatures. Though they will go after copper, silver, and precious gems, they love gold above all. That is why sometimes gold sickness is called dragon sickness, as you would know if you did your reading on Dwarves. Mines of all kinds, but especially those run by Dwarves, are often attacked by dragons of the North. The Yukon is still overrun with dragons and no one has been able to get them out in almost two centuries. During the gold and silver rushes of North America almost two hundred years ago, dragons were particularly active. Smaug is the one who caused the greatest damage. Now why…"

A smack of heavy, floral perfume announced the arrival of a female Hobbit professionally dressed. She stood in the back and cleared her throat. Professor Baggins ignored her. "As I was saying, now why is Smaug so important? I already gave you a hint earlier."

"Professor Baggins," the Hobbit standing in the back said.

"Anyone?" Professor Baggins said as she continued to ignore the woman in the back.

"Bramble!" the woman said impatiently.

"Lobelia! It is rude to interrupt a class," Professor Baggins said.

The students snickered.

A female Hobbit with blonde hair said, "Is it because Smaug is probably still alive?"

"Exactly!" Professor Baggins said, "He is the only (possibly) live dragon this far south. The next nearest ones are in Canada, where they certainly do not sit around drinking Tim Horton's while talking about hockey."

The students giggled.

"But there is another reason," Professor Baggins said, "There is still a claim on the Lonely Mountain from the line of Durin. We know for certain Thorin Oakenshield, the grandson of the last King Under the Mountain, is still alive. His Father, Thráin, has been missing for many years. It is an interesting legal dispute since ownership is nine-tenths of the law and Smaug has been sitting on the treasure for almost two centuries. Because of this, anyone who slays the dragon could potentially own the Lonely Mountain unless…" She waved her hands as she tried to get students to chime in. "… unless the Line of Durin can find the Arkenstone, a sign of kingship of the Lonely Mountain. Come on. We talked about this during the Dwarf lectures. Now, Lobelia, what is the bee in your bonnet?"

"Your wizard friend is here," Lobelia said.

Professor Baggins grinned. "Well, he will just have to wait. I will be there as quick as I can, cousin."

Sackville-Baggins huffed but left the classroom. Professor Baggins turned to the class. "I am going to end class a little early as one should not anger wizards. Your assignment is to find three fairy or folk tales about dragons, as much of what we know about dragons comes from those sources. Try to find at least two different cultures' accounts. Except for those I called on and our visitor, you are free to leave. Your word of wisdom for the day: never laugh at a live dragon."

The students packed their things and left. Professor Baggins spoke with a quiet voice to the disrespectful Hobbits. She wrote out something on a paper for each student and texted someone. Professor Baggins next spoke to the girl who did not know much about Dwarves. The girl seemed upset for a moment, but began to cheer up as the professor wrote instructions on a piece of paper. The young Hobbit practically danced out of the room.

Thorin walked down to the front where Professor Baggins packed her things. "What is it you wished to speak to me about?"

"I was wondering your thoughts on the lecture," Professor Baggins said.

"I thought it was informative," Thorin said.

"I hope I did not offend you by what I quoted from the report to the Iron Hills," Professor Baggins said.

"Why would I be offended?" Thorin asked gruffly.

"Well, they are _your _words."

Thorin raised an eyebrow. "My words?"

"Well, yes. You are Thorin Oakenshield, are you not?"

"I do believe you are confused about…"

"No. I am not. A strange man comes to my class who looks like Thorin Oakenshield at the same time my dear, pesky, old friend decides to come for a visit. Well, Thorin Oakenshield without the beard, which I suppose is to be expected after a hundred years or so," Professor Baggins said, "Also, Thor? Really? That was the best you could come up with?" She handed some books to Thorin. "Come on. I must have a word with Gandalf and see what mischief he is up to."

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A/N: Welcome to An Unexpected Road Trip! I apologize in advance for this long author's note, but some ground rules need to be laid out as I know these questions will come up.

Here is the Fan Cast.

I shall warn you readers of something before we begin. All of the places in this story I have personally visited in some way. (Some things are obviously not going to exist in the real world.) The exception is the location of the Lonely Mountain, which is located at a real Lone Mountain in New Mexico near Santa Fe. I have not visited that particular spot (though I have driven through the state and visited Santa Fe). I am going to be changing the landscape to fit better with the book in any case. I have spent time in the area. All that to say: there will be some poking fun of states, particularly Florida. Much of my family lives there and so I have personal experience with the state. For those of you who don't know: what the U.S.A. is to the world is what Florida is to the U.S.A. There are good things about the state, but there is so much fun to be had with it too.

"He could be seen talking to strangers, even Dwarves." – From "The Quest for Erebor" in _Unfinished Tales _by J. R. R. Tolkien on why Bilbo was chosen for the quest by Gandalf.

Information on dragons comes from Tolkien's writing, Jackson's movies, and _Tolkien: A Dictionary _by David Day. Obviously, Hobbiton University is fictional. However, part of the reason I chose Indiana was because Indiana University in Bloomington has one of the few programs on Folklore in the U.S.A.

The reasoning behind making the Free People of about the same height was purely practical. It would be interesting to explore equal access in a fantasy setting. (This is discussed some, particularly in Bree, but it is not an issue Tolkien focuses on.) Maybe in another story I will deal with it. I needed Hobbits, Dwarves, elves, orcs, etc. to be able to drive cars of the same height and such. I know how much of a hassle it is to use items for people who are disabled to drive. My uncle lost his leg several years ago and it takes time to switch in the tools to help him drive.


	2. Chapter II: The Map

Chapter II: The Map

A/N: Bramble inspired by notbecauseofvictories on Tumblr for her Angel Coulby photo set. Special thanks to The Hobbit Movies on Google+ recommended by for transcripts for the films.

Betas are Wingdings and TriciaOakenshield.

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Professor Bramble Baggins was not fond of surprises. Having two in one day never boded well. First there was the rather handsome dwarf she had never seen in the Shire before. There was also Gandalf's (always unexpected) visit. She found it doubtful they were unconnected. Bramble might not have realized who the dwarf in her classroom was if not for the fact she was speaking about his people using his words. She was surprised she did not burst into flames from embarrassment. It was one thing to talk about people when they were not there, but quite another when they were sitting in the back of one's classroom looking majestic.

Thorin seemed to take it in stride as he carried some of her books. Bramble wondered amongst her many thoughts of why royalty would come all the way out to the middle-of-nowhere Indiana and if he would be offended if she asked him to sign her book with his report in it. She realized it might be a painful subject and the height of rudeness to ask.

Gandalf had already made himself comfortable in Bramble's chair when the Dwarf and the Hobbit walked in. The wizard was reading one of Bramble's books on Hobbit genealogy.

"You are in my spot," Bramble said. She placed her computer bag by her desk and began taking off her jacket and waistcoat. Bramble said to Thorin, "You can put the books down, sir, and take one of the guest seats. Close the door though. Ah, where are my manners, Gandalf. Good morning."

Gandalf got up at a leisurely pace. "What do you mean? Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or, perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning. Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?"

Bramble sighed. "The last one. Can I help you?"

"That remains to be seen," Gandalf said.

Bramble set out the tray of tea Gandalf had already prepared. She turned on some light instrumental music. "The walls have ears. Now Gandalf why oh why would you send _the _Thorin Oakenshield to _my_ classroom?"

"Oh," Gandalf looked over at Thorin, "I did not realize he would be here today."

"Yes, which is why you set out three mugs of tea," Bramble said dryly.

Gandalf leaned forward and smiled. "I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure."

Bramble barked out a laugh. "An adventure? No, I don't imagine anyone in Indiana outside of Bree would have much interest in adventures. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. They make you late for dinner. How do you take your tea, Mr. Oakenshield? Oh dear, that is a title, isn't it? How am I to address you?"

"Thorin will do," the Dwarf said, "Just milk. I would like to know what the wizard is doing here as well."

"Gandalf, two sugars and a dollop of milk?" Bramble said. Gandalf nodded that she was correct. The Hobbit finished fixing up her tea before sitting down.

"Well, when I mean adventure…" Gandalf said, "For once, I am bringing you something which does not necessitate you leaving your cozy office."

Bramble raised an eyebrow. "Truly?"

"Truly," Gandalf said.

"I need this map verified," Thorin said as he pulled a worn piece of paper out of the pocket of his leather jacket, "Your various expertise make you qualified to do so."

Bramble put aside her tea and began preparations to look at the document. She pulled out an empty tray, latex gloves, glasses attached with a magnifying glass on one eye, and flipped on her desk light. Professor Baggins carefully unfolded the paper. She tested the weight, held it up against the light for a moment, and finally sniffed the document.

"I am afraid I will have to get into your personal space, gentlemen, for just a moment," Bramble said. She quickly sniffed both Thorin (leather, clean earth, something which she would hazard to guess was a forge, etc.) and Gandalf (lemon, cheap soap, the pipe tobacco he was supposed to have quit smoking ages ago, etc.).

Professor Baggins sat down again and began examining the map. "Judging from the… smell of the document, I would say it was in Thorin's possession for enough time that it began to smell like him. Slight water damage at the edges long enough ago that it is dried. I would want to say this document is about 200 years old. I am going to state the most obvious reason for the date because of the reference to the Desolation of Smaug. Judging by the way the map is labeled, I assume this was written as a personal reference. It is more casual than a map for general use. I have no idea what the Dwarvish runes say, of course, but it does seem to have been written with care by a strong hand. I would guess there are moon runes on this. Besides the long shot of having the right date, probably your best bet to have this read would be to go to Rivendell. I have a feeling you wouldn't like that."

"I do not need those… elves' help. Is the map legitimate?" Thorin asked.

"I want to say yes, but I cannot read the runes. They could say something like, 'Priscilla likes Dwarves with big beards' or something just as ridiculous. I am assuming since you can read these runes, you think they say something of importance." Bramble looked up. "I would have to run other tests, but most forgers would not draw something as… amateurish as this. The labeling of the compass is a sign of a Dwarf or someone who knew the finer details of the culture. Obviously, the Lord of Silver Fountains would be such. If it is a fake, it is one of the best I have ever seen."

Thorin tried to take the map back but Bramble kept it away from him. "Let me get you a bag for this. I can't have such an old document just rattling around your pocket. My nerves couldn't take it."

The Dwarf huffed, but Bramble ignored him. She fetched a bag, carefully folded the map back-up, and placed it in the bag before handing it back to Thorin. "I would recommend gloves from now on. The map has aged well, but who knows how long it will hold up over rough conditions?"

"I will keep your advice in mind," Thorin said.

"Is that the only thing you came for?" Bramble asked.

"That is the only thing I need," Thorin said.

Gandalf kicked Thorin's leg. "What was that for, Gandalf?"

"Ask her. She will not betray your confidence. Bramble is a good, honest Hobbit and limits her gossip to who has a third breakfast," Gandalf said.

"That was one time!" Bramble protested.

Thorin looked up at the ceiling for a moment before focusing on Bramble. "How much will it take to keep you silent?"

"Um… did I mess anything up in my lecture?" Bramble said.

Thorin blinked rapidly. "What?"

"You asked how much it would take, that would be it. You are the first Dwarf I have talked to about something other than repairing tools," Bramble said.

"You want to know if your lecture was wrong?" Thorin said.

"Yes. It is my job to be as accurate as possible," Bramble said.

"You want to know if your lecture was wrong?" Thorin repeated.

"Yes. That's it," Bramble said.

Thorin shook his head and chuckled. "The only thing you had absolutely wrong was the female to male ratio of Dwarves. It is one to two, not one to four. It is difficult to conceive, thus why we have never had as large numbers compared to Men and Hobbits."

Bramble sighed and relaxed into her chair. "Oh, thank goodness. I was terribly worried."

"I am just glad you didn't say we sprung out of holes in the ground," Thorin said.

"Your question, master Dwarf," Bramble said.

Thorin leaned forward as did Bramble. He said in a low tone, "What would you advise if, hypothetically, someone wanted to exterminate the pest of a worm?"

Bramble tilted her head and closed her eyes. "Hmmm… birds eat a lot of worms, especially after storms, though I suspect you are discussing the other type of worm."

"Indeed."

"'Every worm has his weak spot', as my father used to say, though I am sure it was not from personal experience," Bramble said as she opened her eyes, "If you do not mind dying along with the dragon, stabbing him directly into a soft spot will work. Of course, the blood will kill you if any of it touches you. Black Arrows (which as far as I know no longer exist) would be your best choice when it comes to weapons. The best way to kill a dragon, however, would be to submerge it in water. Cold Drakes may be able to withstand snow, but all dragons, particularly Fire Drakes, are powerless in water. Drown a dragon and it will most certainly die. Fairy stories and folk tales may discuss other methods, but those are the only ones with historical precedent. I personally would like to see the effects of modern guns against dragon hide. A grenade launcher would at least distract the beast. No one has tried new methods since dragons first took over the Yukon."

Thorin nodded. "Thank you for your time, Professor Baggins. I will take my leave now."

Bramble stood up just as Thorin did. She held out her hand, "A pleasure to meet you, sir."

Thorin shook her hand. "A pleasure for me as well, professor."

Gandalf smiled at Bramble as Thorin left. "I think the two of you got along just splendidly."

Bramble had a goofy grin on her face and it was not just because her hand felt unusually warm. "Thorin Oakenshield. A real Dwarf from the real line of Durin. A map drawn possibly by Thrór. Quite the adventure and I will not be missing my dinner."

"Now, there is another matter I wish to discuss," Gandalf said.

"Good morning, Gandalf," Bramble said in a way that meant for the wizard to leave.

"To think that I should have lived to be good-morninged by Belladonna Took's daughter as if I were selling Tupperware at the door!"

"I don't want any more adventures. This is enough for me," Bramble said.

Gandalf huffed. "You've changed and not entirely for the better, Bramble Baggins."

"You're right. I have. I have realized adventures get you killed," Bramble said. She motioned to the papers piled on her desk. "I am an adult, Gandalf. I have duties here at the university. I have Bag-End to take care of. You know Lobelia will get her hands on it at any opportunity. I have already caught her stealing my spoons five times!"

Gandalf stood up. "Well that's decided."

Bramble relaxed. "Thank you."

"It will be very good for you, and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others." Gandalf walked out the door.

Bramble tried to chase after the wizard, but he had already left. "Inform the who? What? No. No. No! Wait. We do not want any adventures here, thank you."

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The next day was pleasant for Bramble. She rode her bicycle around campus and Hobbiton after her classes were completed. Bramble bought as many groceries as she could fit in her basket and attached baggage carrier. Hamfast had said the vegetables in her garden were coming in nicely and were doing well against pests.

Bramble had quite forgotten Gandalf's mention of "others" until she had sat down for a supper of homemade pizza while in her sweats and an old t-shirt when the doorbell rang. She grabbed her father's robe and wrapped it around herself as she opened the round door of home.

One of the most handsome men Bramble had ever seen stood at her door. She did not take too much notice his appearance as she focused on the AK-47 and the shotgun strapped to his back and the two handguns at his side.

The dwarf bowed and said, "Dwalin, at your service."

Bramble stared for a moment. "Nope." She slammed the door, locked it, and ran to hide under her bed.

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A/N: I saw someone once handle a 500 year old Torah with their bare hands and they were encouraging everyone who came by the booth to touch it. *shivers* I have never gotten over it.

The female to male ratio for Dwarves is entirely my doing so I can have several female Dwarves on this journey.


	3. Chapter III: Dwarves in Bag-End

Chapter III: Dwarves in Bag-End

Beta is TriciaOakenshield.

A/N: Bramble inspired by notbecauseofvictories on Tumblr for her Angel Coulby photo set. Special thanks to The Hobbit Movies on Google+ recommended by for transcripts for the films.

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Dwalin was confused. He generally only had the door slammed in his face when he tried to kill someone. This was an odd development. Maybe the woman lived alone and was unused to strange men coming to her house? Unsure of what else to do, Dwalin sat on the Hobbit's doorstep/ramp and texted the wizard.

Shortly afterwards, Dwalin's brother, Balin, arrived with an insufferable grin on his face. "Evening, nadad."

"By my beard, you are shorter and wider than last we met," Dwalin said as he stood up.

"Wider, not shorter. Sharp enough for both of us," Balin said.

The two laughed and butted heads.

"Now, Dwalin, why are you out here? Don't you know how to ring a doorbell?"

"There's the problem. The lass won't let me in," Dwalin said.

"Well, you are rather terrifying until everyone knows you're a pansy," Balin said, "Maybe she'll let us in when some of the women folk arrive."

"I don't know. I've seen rabbits with more fight in them," Dwalin said.

"What rabbits are fighting?" Fíli asked as she and her brother, Kíli, came up the path.

"Nothing. Our host seems to be frightened of my brother," Balin said.

"Well, let's hope she doesn't faint at the sight of uncle," Kíli said, "Is Professor Boggins scared of Dwalin?"

"It's Professor Baggins," Dori said, dragging her sisters Nori and Ori along, "I parked the Volkswagen in the drive. I saw Glóin's car behind us on the way in."

Bifur, Bombur, and Bofur trudged up the path. Bofur waved his ear hat around in greeting. Bifur was wary of his surroundings, but Bombur, Bofur's sister, seemed to keep him anchored to the present.

"Hello lads, lasses," Bofur said. He ruffled Ori's hair. "How are the lot of you doing? Why are we outside?"

"She won't let us in," Dwalin mumbled.

"Who won't let us in?" Óin asked as he adjusted his hearing aids.

"Professor Boggins," Kíli said.

"Baggins!" Fíli said.

The wizard's grey car parked in the driveway. "Why are you all out here?" Gandalf asked as he closed his car door.

"The lass won't let us in," Balin said, "This is the right house? It has your mark."

Gandalf began muttering. He rapped the door three times. "Bramble Baggins, you are being a terrible host. Open this door right now."

"I don't think she could hear you," Glóin said.

"I heard him, namad," Óin said.

"Bramble most certainly did hear me," Gandalf said.

One did not argue with wizards, so the Dwarves all lined up at the door. Just when they were about to knock again, the door swung open, causing several of the Dwarves to fall forward. Fortunately, none of the larger Dwarves fell and just the younger, sprightly ones were pinned.

The Hobbit growled, "Gandalf…"

"Wonderful to see you too, Bramble my dear," Gandalf said, "What's for supper?"

Bramble rubbed her face with one hand. "For the love of… everyone, shoes off and weapons by the door or no food."

The Dwarves willingly complied when they heard the word "food".

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After proper introductions were given, Professor Baggins' pantries were raided. Only a lonely bowl of left over soup was left untouched. The Dwarves began cooking on any surface they could get to. They used the electric stove, the microwave, and even started a fire in a long disused fireplace with Bombur leading the charge. Bombur was a professional cook, even if the small diners she worked at did not give her a proper avenue to show off her skills. It paid the bills for her fourteen little ones.

Bombur dealt with the chaos of the kitchen with ease. It was simple enough work that she could overhear Gandalf and the professor arguing.

"Gandalf, why did you bring these Dwarves here?" Bramble asked.

"Why, they needed a place to discuss things and…"

"Is this about your… visit yesterday?"

"Now, why would you ever think that, my dear?"

Bramble groaned. "Are you serious? Why my house?"

"It is lovely. Frankly, my dear, you have been alone for far too long."

"Stop calling me 'my dear'. You only do it when you want something."

Gandalf chuckled and took a sip of red wine.

"And you still haven't stopped smoking that infernal pipe. Chimney stacks have less smoke coming out of them than you do."

The wizard choked on his wine. Bombur liked the Hobbit already.

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Gandalf sat back and laughed at the chaos the Dwarves caused. He knew their tale far better than Bramble did and knew it was rare for them to be so jolly. The dear Hobbit looked ready to faint. He knew her to be Belladonna Took's daughter; she could face up to anything, even Dwarves eating everything in her pantry.

"Excuse me, that is a doily, not a dishcloth!" Bramble said as she snatched the doily from Bofur.

"But it's full of holes!" Bofur protested.

"It's supposed to look like that, it's crochet," Bramble explained gently.

"Oh, and a wonderful game it is too, if you got the balls for it," Bofur snickered.

Bramble rolled her eyes. "Bebother and confusticate these Dwarves!"

"My dear, what on earth is the matter?" Gandalf said.

"What's the matter?" Bramble merely motioned to the pandemonium around her.

"Oh, they're quite a merry gathering, once you get used to them," Gandalf said.

Ori tapped on Bramble's shoulder, "Excuse me. I'm sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?"

Fíli snatched it. "Here you go, Ori, give it to me."

The dishes began being tossed around from the dining room to the kitchen either to go into the dish washer or the sink. The Dwarves kept a beat by banging the utensils and their fists against the dining room table.

"Excuse me, that's my mother's West Farthing crockery; it's over a hundred years old!" Bramble cried out, "And can you not do that? You'll blunt them!"

"Ooh, do hear that, lads? The professor says we'll blunt the knives," Bofur said.

The Dwarves began to sing. "Blunt the knives, bend the forks/Smash the bottles and burn the corks/Chip the glasses and crack the plates/That's what Bramble Baggins hates!/Cut the cloth and tread on the fat/Leave the bones on the bedroom mat/Pour the milk on the pantry floor/Splash the wine on every door/Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl/Pound them up with a thumping pole/When you've finished, if any are whole/Send them down the hall to roll/That's what Bramble Baggins hates!"

And of course they did none of these dreadful things. The group already liked Bramble for her beautiful pantries. Plural! Who had ever heard of plural pantries outside of a palace? They knew if Bramble wanted them out, she would have called the police a long time ago. She was merely confused by all the racket. The professor would grow used to it.

There was a knock at the door. "Finally," Gandalf mumbled.

Bramble went to the door. "I cannot stand any other Dwar… oh. Dear. Hello again, Thorin. So that's why they're here."

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A/N: Glóin is the only one of the Dwarves to be married according to the books. The filmmakers, according to _The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey Official Movie Guide _by Brian Sibley, said they decided Bombur should be married and have at least twelve children. An interview with Stephen Hunter said fourteen.

NOSTALGIA ALERT! The line "And of course they did none of these dreadful things." was the point where I became a part of the books when I read it for the first time when I was ten. I was on a quest to reclaim Erebor with Dwarves, Hobbits, wizards, eagles, elves, and so many other wonderful creatures. My heart grows lighter when I hear it and it makes my day brighter.

Translations of Khuzdul - From the Khuzdul Dictionary by the Dwarrow Scholar and khuzdul4u.

Namad - sister

Nadad - brother.


	4. Chapter IV: Burglar

Chapter IV: Burglar

Beta is TriciaOakenshield.

A/N: Bramble inspired by notbecauseofvictories on Tumblr for her Angel Coulby photo set. Special thanks to The Hobbit Movies on Google+ recommended by for transcripts for the films.

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Thorin was about to knock at the door of the hill when he heard the music from within. When had been the last time he had heard any group of Dwarves besides a small family group sing anything but sorrow outside of holidays? He did not know, but he wanted to listen to it as long as it lasted. He could not hear the words, but he knew it was silly and full of mischief. Finally, the Dwarves cheered when the song was done.

With weary determination, he knocked at the door. He heard a familiar voice. "I cannot stand any other Dwar… oh. Dear." Professor Baggins opened the door. Thorin could smell a faint scent of food. "Hello again, Thorin. So that's why they're here."

"Professor Baggins," Thorin said with a slight bow, "Thorin Oakenshield at your service."

"Bramble Baggins at yours," Bramble said with as much of a curtsy as she could give while wearing sweat pants.

"Ah, Thorin," Gandalf said.

"I did not realize this would be taking place at your house, professor," Thorin said.

"Neither did I," Bramble said, "Please, come in. Take off your shoes and put any weapons by the door. There must be something left to eat."

Thorin entered cautiously and avoided hitting his head against the low hanging chandelier in the hallway. The king acknowledged those of the Company who had come to the door with a nod of his head. He put all of his weapons by the door save for the .22 mm gun he kept just above his socks. Thorin _almost_ felt guilty about lying to his host. Then he saw two of the other Dwarves...

"Fíli. Kíli," Thorin said as he crossed his arms.

The two tried to duck under the table but the Dwarves next to them pulled the duo up. "Hi, idad," they squeaked.

"Does your Amad know you're here?" Thorin said.

"How stupid do you think we are?" Fíli said.

Thorin looked up at the ceiling. "She will have my head if anything happens to you two."

Fíli and Kíli gave the most adorable puppy dog eyes ever to be seen in the Shire beside toddlers and actual puppies.

Thorin was unimpressed. He turned to Gandalf, "When will our burglar arrive?"

"Oh, you never know," Gandalf said.

A wizard being vague was never a good sign.

By the time Thorin had sat down (after hitting his head on the door frame to the dining room), Bramble had placed a bottle of beer before him and rushed back to the kitchen. The Dwarves waited on Thorin to speak, but he had a sneaking suspicion of who was to be their burglar and he would wait for her.

The professor returned with a bowl of stew, some bread, and a small slice of cheese. "I hope this is alright. I can make something up if you want."

"This will do. Thank you," Thorin said.

As he took his first bite of the soup, Thorin felt a pleasant tingling run through him. After another bite, it became a general warmth in his body. The more he ate, the more at ease he became with the Hobbit's home. Thorin knew Hobbits had magic, but he had never seen it. The magic seemed reserved for food. Maybe that was why the Company had been so unusually jolly.

Balin was the bravest of the group in asking what had happened. "What news from the meeting in New York? Did they all come?"

"Yes. Envoys from all seven kingdoms," Thorin said.

"What do the Dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is Dain with us?" Dwalin asked.

Thorin wished he could answer differently. "They will not come." The Dwarves became downcast. "They say this quest is ours, and ours alone."

"So you're going to the Lonely Mountain?" Bramble asked quietly. Thorin realized she stood behind him near the entryway of the dining room.

"Óin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time," Glóin said before slapping her brother on the back.

Óin continued, "Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold: when the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end."

"You mean Smaug?" Bramble said, "Smaug the Terrible? Chiefest and greatest calamity of our age?"

Ori stood up. "I'm not afraid! I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of the Dwarvish iron right up his..."

The Dwarves shouts of agreement drowned out the final word. Dori made her sister sit down.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us. But we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best, nor brightest," Balin said.

The company objected to being called stupid. Thorin resisted smiling at the insult.

"We may be few in number, but we're fighters, all of us, to the last Dwarf!" Fíli said.

Kíli (always following his sister) said, "And you forget, we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time."

Gandalf looked frazzled. "Oh, well, now, uh, I… I wouldn't say that, I…"

"How many, then?" Dori asked

Gandalf looked at Dori. "Uh, what?"

"Well, how many dragons have you killed? Go on, give us a number!" Dori demanded.

The Dwarves erupted into an argument about how many dragons Gandalf killed. Thorin saw the professor looking annoyed with the wizard, which made Thorin feel slightly less paranoid and a bit smarter about not completely trusting the wizard. However, a punch would be thrown soon if Thorin did not stop the argument.

Thorin stood up. "Shazara! If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for 60 years. People look west to the Mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor? Du Bekâr! Du Bekâr!"

The company cheered. Thorin's heart was warmed with pride at the spirit of his Dwarves.

When the cheering had died down, Balin spoke. "You forget; the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain."

"That is not entirely true," Gandalf said. Somehow he made an ornately wrought Dwarvish key appear in his hand.

Thorin was wonder struck. "How did you find this?"

"It was given to me by your father, by Thráin, for safekeeping, just like your map. It is yours now," Gandalf said as he handed the key to Thorin.

"If there is a key, there must be a door," Fíli said.

Thorin pulled out the map from his jacket pocket. "Gloves, Baggins."

Faster than Thorin thought possible, Bramble handed him both latex gloves and a flat tray which would allow the company to see the map while not allowing it to become sticky with food. The slightest hint of lilacs filled the air when the professor brushed against Thorin's shoulder. He reverently opened up the map "These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls."

"There's another way in!" Kíli exclaimed.

"Well, if we can find it, but Dwarf doors are invisible when closed," Gandalf said, "The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in Middle-earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But, if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar," Ori deduced.

"A good one, too. An expert, I'd imagine," Bramble said.

The Dwarves all turned to the Hobbit.

"And are you, professor?" Glóin said.

"Am I what?" Bramble said. Her eyes grew wide. "Me? No, no, no, no, no. I'm not a burglar; I've never stolen a thing in my life."

"Bramble, you were a literature education major in your undergraduate studies. All they do is either steal from books or from other teachers!" Gandalf said.

"I am not a burglar!" Bramble shouted.

"I'm afraid I have to agree with the professor Baggins. She's hardly burglar material," Balin said.

The company agreed heartily. Thorin almost jumped out of his seat at Gandalf's booming voice. "Enough! If I say Belladonna Bramble Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar she is."

The group looked at the wizard in shock. Bramble appeared ready to faint. Gandalf smiled at her and patted her arm. "There, there my dear. I did not mean to frighten _you_."

"Isn't Belladonna a poisonous plant?" Nori asked.

"It can also be used as a medicine," Bramble snapped, "If any of you call me that, you will regret it."

Gandalf looked back at the Dwarves. "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of Dwarf, the scent of Hobbit is all but unknown to him. Professor Baggins is _the_ expert on dragons on this continent, which gives us a distinct advantage. You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Professor Baggins. There's a lot more to her than appearances suggest, and she's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including herself." The wizard turned to Thorin. "You must trust me on this."

Thorin watched Bramble for a moment. She seemed calmer and looked at Gandalf with fondness. Thorin said, "Very well. We will do it your way. Give her the contract."

"I don't _need_ any adventures," Bramble said.

Balin put on his reading glasses and pulled out a long contract. "It's just the usual summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth." He passed it to the Hobbit.

"Funeral arrangements?" Bramble squeaked. She took the contract and began to read it.

Thorin felt something (he supposed somewhere in the vicinity of his heart) which made him uneasy. He leaned over to Gandalf and whispered, "I cannot guarantee the professor's safety."

"Understood."

"Nor will I be responsible for her fate."

Gandalf nodded. "Agreed."

Bramble began mumbling aloud the contract. "Terms: Cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one fourteenth of total profit, if any. Reasonable. Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof including but not limited to lacerations... evisceration… incineration?" She looked more angry than scared.

"Oh, yes, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye," Bofur said.

"I know," Bramble huffed.

Balin said, "You all right, lass?"

"Think furnace with wings," Bofur said, "Flash of light, searing pain, then Poof! you're nothing more than a pile of ash."

"I know! Thank you!" Bramble shouted.

Bofur looked dumbstruck.

"Oh, I'm sorry. That was rude. You were just trying to warn me," Bramble said..

"Actually, he was trying to scare you," Bombur said, "My brother is a jerk like that."

There was angry knocking at the door. "THORIN I WILL SKIN YOU AND TURN YOU INTO SHOES!" a female voice shouted.

Fíli, Kíli, Balin, and Dwalin all dove under the table. Thorin felt himself become ill. He looked under the table and said, "I thought your Amad knew!"

"We never said that," Kíli said.

"We said, 'How stupid do you think we are?'" Fíli said, "We never claimed to be intelligent."

Thorin sat up and groaned. It would not be a pleasant meeting.

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A/N: Hi, I am an English education major and I am more than willing to mock my major.

Translations of Khuzdul - Thanks to the same folks in charge of the script and khuzdul4u.

Amad - Mother.

Idad - Uncle.

Shazara! - Silence!

Du Bekâr! Du Bekâr! - To arms! To arms!


	5. Chapter V: The Fourteenth Dwarf

Chapter V: The Fourteenth Dwarf

A/N: Bramble inspired by notbecauseofvictories on Tumblr for her Angel Coulby photo set. Special thanks to The Hobbit Movies on Google+ recommended by for transcripts for the films.

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Dís pounded on the door again. "THORIN! OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!"

Her older brother swung open the round, green door. "Do not knock down Professor Baggins' door. She has fed us well."

Dís shoved her brother backwards in the hall. "You! You convinced them to come, didn't you?"

"They came on their own. I didn't ask them," Thorin said.

"You and your stories!" Dís said, "They didn't even tell me where they went! They could have been lying dead in a ditch because of orcs and I would have never known!"

Dís saw the dining room and stormed in. Bombur and Glóin yanked up Dís' children from under the dining room table. "You two are coming home."

"Amad!" Fíli and Kíli shouted.

"Now! Get in the rental!" Dís said.

Fíli and Kíli grumbled, but began to leave. Dís turned back to Thorin. She pushed at his chest, barely moving him. "You! This is your fault!"

"My fault? I did nothing!" Thorin said.

"Nothing! You…" Dís was not quite sure what was said after that. The argument was in Khuzdul and she was certain she and Thorin brought up every single terrible thing they had done to each other.

They began to make progress when there was a loud bang that pulled the siblings out of their fight. They turned and saw the Hobbit holding a gong which was almost as large as her upper body.

"End of… round one," the professor said as she put down the gong. She gasped for air, her eyes wide. "I will... I will not have fighting… in this house. I have already dealt with…" The Hobbit began to hyperventilate. "…with Dwarves… and my mother's dishes being… being… and I will not… you're siblings and… please stop." The Hobbit fainted.

Dís and Thorin tilted their heads to the side. "Odd creature," they said in unison.

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Bramble woke up to Óin examining her head. "I passed out?"

"The technical term is 'fell like a stone'," Óin said as he smiled slightly.

"You hear better than you let on, don't you?" Bramble whispered.

Óin shook his head. "I've been trying to find good hearing aids for a decade now. Sometimes they work. Sometimes they don't. Right now they do."

Bramble sat up. Thorin and Dís glared at each other, but were no longer yelling. The Hobbit sighed. "I need some tea."

Bofur and Glóin helped Bramble to the living room where she sat in her favorite reading chair. Bombur brought a cup of tea.

"I'll be all right, let me just sit quietly for a moment," Bramble said.

Gandalf came into the room and began pacing. "You've been sitting quietly for far too long. Tell me; when did doilies and your mother's dishes become so important to you? I remember a young Hobbit who always was running off in search of elves in the woods, who'd stay out late, come home after dark, trailing mud and twigs and fireflies, who would ride her bike until her legs stopped working so she could see more of the world than her little town. A young Hobbit who would have liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire. The world is not in your books and maps; it's out there."

"I can't just go running off into the blue. I am a Baggins of Bag End," Bramble said.

"You are also a Took. Did you know about your great-great-great-great-uncle, Bullroarer Took?"

"Yes. In the Battle of Green Fields, he charged the goblin ranks. He swung his club so hard it knocked the Goblin King's head clean off, and it sailed a hundred yards through the air and went down a rabbit hole. And thus the battle was won, and the game of golf invented at the same time." Bramble chuckled. "I do think that story is a bit embellished since golf was invented a few centuries before."

"You'll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back," Gandalf said encouragingly.

"Can you promise I will come back?"

"No. And if you do, you will not be the same."

Bramble sighed. "That's what I thought. I'm sorry, Gandalf, I can't join in on this adventure. You've got the wrong Hobbit."

Gandalf said quietly, "What happened to you, Bramble?"

"You may not have to grow up, but I do," Bramble said before she closed her eyes and took a sip of tea, "Oh, that is just right. Did you tell the Dwarf cook, uh, Bombur, what I liked?"

"I did not," Dís said.

Bramble's eyes snapped open. Gandalf was gone. Dís sat across from the Hobbit and drank a mug of coffee.

"I am so sorry. I didn't realize children were here without permission from their parents," Bramble said.

Dís chuckled. "Unfortunately, my children are adults. Barely adults, but legally, they do not have to listen to me. They just…" she waved a hand in exasperation. "They are so like the line of Durin. Bunch of thick-headed idiots."

"I thought Thorin was your brother," Bramble said.

"He is," Dís said. She winked at Bramble. "I never said I wasn't a thick-headed idiot as well."

Bramble smiled. "They sound very Tookish."

"Tookish?"

"The Tooks are my mother's side. Wild for Hobbits. They get into all sorts of adventures," Bramble said.

"But you are a Boggins?" Dís said.

"Baggins," Bramble corrected, "Proper folk. Very respectable."

"Why would someone so proper and respectable have a wizard call upon them for help?" Dís asked.

Bramble's shoulders slumped. "I was a very silly child. Far too Tookish for my own good."

"Oh no. That sounds like a very sad story waiting to be told," Dís said.

Bramble shrugged. "Not very sad. Just a normal sad. I have never had a dragon take my home. I have never had my life threatened except by Farmer Maggot's dogs, though now I am older, I don't think they would have done anything. Well, they did bite my… backside once. I still have the scars."

Dís held back an amused smile. "If you are willing, I would like to hear the story."

Bramble put aside her tea and pulled her legs up against her chest. "I used to travel as much as I could when I was a young girl. My parents always had the same farewell for me. 'Go have an adventure and come back with a tale for us.' One time, I went all the way pass Bree and to Chicago. It was the farthest any Hobbit had gone besides a few Tooks. The buildings were dizzyingly high. The lake smelled, but made you feel small in all the right ways. And the Art Institute of Chicago… I cried when I saw a Monet in real life. I came back and… you see, I didn't have a cell phone and I didn't think to call home since I would be back in a day." Bramble rubbed her eyes. "My Dad had died. He had been sick his whole life and so I didn't think… think anything would happen. Mom just… stopped being Mom and quietly followed my Father. So, I don't go on adventures anymore. You can't be too far from home because something terrible might happen."

"And sometimes terrible things happen when you stay at home," Dís said.

"But you didn't ask for trouble," Bramble said, "I did and I would be doing it again if I went on this adventure. There is stupidity and then there is slaying a dragon stupidity."

Dís smiled. "I have never heard anyone not blame the Dwarves for bringing Smaug upon the Mountain."

"It was your home. Smaug stole from you. He had no right. It was not his. Why should the victims be blamed?" Bramble stopped to regain her compose. "I will show you to my study so you can speak with you your brother in private. I did not mean to interrupt a family spat, but I worried someone would get hurt with how loud you were shouting."

Dís laughed. "Oh, that's just how we fight. It wasn't even particularly loud."

"Still, I offer you my study so you can talk in private," Bramble said.

"That would be much appreciated, professor," Dís said.

Bramble stood up and was about to lead Dís into the hallway when the Dwarf stopped her. Balin spoke to Thorin. "It appears we have lost our burglar. Probably for the best."

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A/N: Dís! Yay! I always have found her to be an interesting character who Tolkien never talked about beyond a name.

And just in case there is any confusion on genders at this point or you cannot access the fan cast.

Female – Bramble (Bilbo), Dis, Fili, Gloin, Bombur, Dori, Nori Ori

Male – Thorin, Kili, Balin, Dwalin, Oin, Bifur, Bofur


	6. Chapter VI: The Line of Durin

Chapter VI: The Line of Durin

A/N: Bramble inspired by notbecauseofvictories on Tumblr for her Angel Coulby photo set. Special thanks to The Hobbit Movies on Google+ recommended by for transcripts for the films.

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Balin sighed. "It appears we have lost our burglar. Probably for the best. The odds were always against us. After all, what are we? Merchants, miners, tinkers, toy-makers: hardly the stuff of legend."

"There are a few warriors amongst us," Thorin said as he smiled at his friend.

"Old warriors," Balin corrected.

Thorin stood up straighter. "I will take each and every one of these Dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills. For when I called upon them, they came. Loyalty. Honor. A willing heart. I can ask no more than that."

"You don't have to do this. You have a choice. You've done honorably by our people. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains of New York: a life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor."

Thorin shook his head and held up the key. "From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me. They dreamed of the day when the Dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. I… have already lost one sibling. My sister will take the children home and she will be safe. There is no choice, Balin. Not for me."

Balin nodded. "Then we are with you. We will see it done."

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Thorin followed his sister and the Hobbit down several winding hallways. "Why is it this house is all on one level? It would seem a third floor or at least a second would be more efficient."

"My father made this house for my mother as a wedding present," Bramble said, "He was using a cane at that point, but knew he would be in a wheelchair sometime in the next few years. So, he made the house wheelchair accessible so he could go get anything his wife desired because she was 'a fine lady deserving of the finest comforts'. Apparently, it was the first time she cried in public when he told her." She stopped talking for a moment. "Sorry. That was a bit defensive. Will your company need rooms? A few may have to share or sleep on a sofa, but there should be enough places to sleep for everyone. I may make Gandalf sleep on the doorstep with how much mischief he has caused me."

Thorin smiled at the thought of the great wizard sleeping on a Hobbit's welcome mat. "The rooms would be much appreciated. Some of us planned on sleeping at the Green Dragon, but this would be much better for our needs. Some of us will go out and refill your kitchen tomorrow."

Bramble stopped walking and spun around. "Oh no! You can't do that! I would be the worst host in the history of Hobbits if I asked! Hospitality is one of the most important parts of being a Hobbit."

Thorin nodded, realizing the wizard had most likely been playing upon the Hobbit's respect of hospitality to get them into Bag-End. "Then we won't."

Bramble sighed in relief and opened a door to her left. She flipped a light switch and said, "Here we are. If you need anything, just ring the bell and I will there as quick as I can."

The first thing Thorin noticed about Bramble's study were the deep-set round windows looking over her garden, the meadows beyond, and the way the hill sloped down to the river. Though it was night, the light of the moon and stars still shone through.

The next thing he observed was the many maps, books, and loose papers which covered most of the room. Two of the maps pinned to the wall (and the only ones not framed) were connected to Dwarves. One was of various Dwarven migrations and the other had notes mentioning where stories took place, including the Lonely Mountain and Thorin's report of Smaug.

"I am sorry it's a mess," Bramble said, "Any need, ring!"

Thorin watched the Hobbit leave and shut the door behind her. Dís examined the maps. "Huh. I must say, the Hobbit does not know much about Dwarves despite being an 'expert' as Balin tells me."

"She doesn't think we spring out of holes in the ground, a marked improvement above many others," Thorin said. He flicked the note with his name on it. "Erebor."

"Erebor," Dís repeated.

Thorin spoke quietly. "Namad, I was not aware they had not asked you."

"Unfortunately, there is nothing I can do, can I?" Dís said, "Well, I could tie them up in a sack, but it would not last very long."

Thorin chuckled. "I was stopped for a couple of hours."

"And then you had to roll all the way down a hill to get Glóin to help you," Dís said.

"You and Frerin were expert knot makers, even when you were Dwarflings," Thorin said.

Dís elbowed her brother. "You taught us. It wasn't our fault you didn't realize it would be used against you."

Thorin elbowed her back. "And then there was the time you stuck honey in my hair and the bees came after me."

"You were so annoying about your beard being long enough to braid. I had to do something."

The siblings were quiet for a moment. The Company could be heard murmuring and laughing further away. The faint scent of tobacco lingered in the study years after the last pipe had been smoked.

"So…" Dis said, "…you don't have a burglar for your quest, Thorin."

"We need a dragon slayer, not a burglar."

"At the least a fourteenth member. Thirteen is unlucky," Dís said, "I know a Dwarf who would be willing to help."

"I already called upon all the Dwarves I could and…" Thorin stopped talking and glared. "No."

"You need a fourteenth member."

"I need you safe."

"I am just as likely to die in a coal mine or walking home as facing a dragon."

"But this death would be..."

"I know of dragon fire, Thorin. I was there too."

"You may be able to defend yourself, but you cannot be expected to…"

"Loyalty. Honor. A willing heart. You can ask no more than that."

Thorin groaned. "Eavesdropper. You are using my words against me."

Dís smiled sweetly. "Baby sister. It's my job." She stopped smiling and hugged her brother, which he reluctantly returned. "I have lost my entire family save for my children and you. I will not be left behind when I could do something to help you. I would rather die in battle defending you than to have news come back to the Blue Mountains if you or any of my children fell."

Thorin hugged her tighter. "You will not be our burglar."

"Only someone completely insane would do it. I am only a little cracked." She gave him a squeeze before stepping back. "I have been told that the wizard thinks the professor is useful."

Thorin looked back at the map. "She is a scholar. She has no idea how to defend herself. By all the powers she… _skips_. You, Fíli, Kíli, even Ori, don't skip."

"If she were willing to come, would you be glad for any more help, even from a woman who _skips_?"

"She is not interested in gold," Thorin said.

"Well, what is she interested in?" Dís said.

Thorin's eyes widened. "Oh. It might work. I would have to see what the repercussions would be, but…"

"What is it?"

"Like you said, something she is interested in."

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Bramble went to bed after she had shown the Company their rooms as she was unable to deal anymore with rambunctious Dwarves. She had nearly fell asleep when she heard singing. Thorin's deep voice led the Company.

"Far over the Misty Mountains cold/To dungeons deep and caverns old/We must away ere break of day/To find our long-forgotten gold/The pines were roaring on the heights/The winds were moaning in the night/The fire was red, it flaming spread/The trees like torches blazed with light"

Dragons, Dwarves, gold, fire, wrath, ruin, and the Line of Durin filled Bramble's dreams that night and for many nights in the future.

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"I see you are changing the contract," Gandalf said to Thorin as the two of them along with Balin and Dís sat at the dining room table. The rest of the Company slept in other parts of the house.

"Dís is coming," Balin said, "We had to change the burglar's contract to a 15th of the treasure along with… other incentives."

"Other incentives?" Gandalf said.

"I seem to recall a conversation with you that the burglar Hobbit (whoever that might be and you never did specify it would be the professor) was a treasure seeker," Thorin said.

"Yes…" Gandalf said cautiously.

"Gold has no interest to her, so I had to seek other means which would," Thorin said.

Gandalf leaned over Balin and nodded. "Indeed, but that is not why she will come, I can promise you."

"Why do you _really_ want her to come, Gandalf?" Thorin said.

"I already told you," Gandalf said.

"No, you didn't. All of your reasons save for information on dragons could be found in any Hobbit. And that knowledge of dragons? All of it was known to me and probably every Dwarf. Why this Hobbit?" Thorin said.

"Her knowledge has been tested as truth and not as fiction. Despite the stubbornness of Dwarves, you are not the race with the most secrets," Gandalf said.

"Why this Hobbit?" Thorin said again.

Gandalf said in a low tone, "If she doesn't go, the whole quest will be a failure."

"I doubt it. She is soft and silly. Her mother died too soon and she is still a child at heart," Thorin said.

Dís interrupted, "If we are to go by that logic, neither of us should ever leave the Blue Mountains."

Thorin glared at his sister for a moment before continuing. "You are playing some crooked game of your own. I am sure you have other purposes than helping me."

"You are quite right," Gandalf said, "If I had no other purposes, I should not be helping you at all. Great as your affairs may seem to you, they are only a small strand in the great web. I am concerned with many strands. But that should make my advice more weighty, not less." Gandalf sighed. "If this Hobbit goes with you, you will succeed. If not, you will fail. A foresight is on me, and I am warning you. If you flout my advice, you will walk to disaster. Curb your pride and your greed, or you will fall at the end of whatever path you take, though your hands be full of gold."

"Do. Not. Threaten. Me," Thorin said.

"It is not a threat if it is by your own doing," Gandalf said, "I can say no more - unless it is this: I do not give my love or trust lightly, Thorin; but I am fond of this Hobbit, and wish her the best. Treat her well, and you shall have my friendship to the end of your days."

Balin looked up in surprise and kicked Thorin under the table. "Do not throw that away lightly," Balin said.

Thorin rubbed his forehead. "Finish up the contract. It is up to the Hobbit now if she will come or not."

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A/N: This is the first of several super-duper-not-canon-changes I am making. If female Dwarves can come along in this AU, why not Dís? The conversation between Gandalf, Thorin, Balin, and Dís is taken from "The Quest for Erebor" in _Unfinished Tales_.

Translations of Khuzdul - Thanks to khuzdul4u

Namad - Sister.


	7. Chapter VII: Send Me On My Way

Chapter VII: Send Me On My Way

Beta is the terrific TriciaOakenshield on .

A/N: Bramble inspired by notbecauseofvictories on Tumblr for her Angel Coulby photo set. Special thanks to The Hobbit Movies on Google+ recommended by for transcripts for the films.

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Bag-End was empty by the time Bramble had woken up the next morning. She had never realized how quiet the place was until that moment. It had always been meant to be full of family. Bramble's parents wanted at least a half-dozen children, but they stopped when both Bramble and her mother had almost died during the pregnancy. There was no one Bramble took an interest in so she could have little Hobbits of her own. She was far too "eccentric" and "intelligent" as her grandmothers would say. They also said it meant only the best would come for her. Bramble gave up looking decades ago.

The kitchen was bare (save for some animal crackers, tea, and Spam), but also completely clean. Bramble drank her tea and tried to warm herself up. The house was too cold, even with the heated floors.

After dressing in her normal brown skirt, white button up blouse, and a green vest, Bramble went to her study. Propped up was the contract. There was a note on it, but she did not read it.

It was a stupid idea. People died killing dragons. Smaug had been inactive for decades, but that did not mean he was dead. How were they going to find the Arkenstone? How was she to avoid a (possibly) live dragon? What were the repercussions if the beast awoke? Who would take care of her classes? Would Lobelia steal Bag-End? What would her parents say?

Bramble's thoughts stopped as she knew the answer already. It was the same thing they had told her all her life until her father died. "Go have an adventure and come back with a tale for us"

The contract was signed and stuffed into her skirt pocket.

Bramble took a deep breath before she began running around the house to pack. She grabbed: some materials she needed to return to a family friend they would probably meet along the way, a backpack, two changes of clothes (both including jeans), a party dress, all of the bras and underwear she could find, toiletries, feminine products, her wallet, a pocket knife which belonged to her mother, a book on traveling around the country which belonged to her father, and some tools for examining older documents. Bramble had just slapped her I-Pod, phone, and e-reader into her backpack when she realized she might actually need shoes. She tied her gym shoes together and draped them so they would hang around her neck. Grabbing her red coat, her lilac scarf, and a hair tie, Bramble ran to her bicycle.

Bramble did not even bother with her helmet. After putting her materials in the basket and disconnecting her baggage cart, she began peddling to the Green Dragon. The professor dipped so low on the turns she thought she would crash.

She saw the caravan beginning to leave the Green Dragon. They were turning onto the road to the greater world.

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Of course, the burglar did not show up. Thorin was not sure why he had bothered with her at all after the first meeting. Hobbits were nearly useless. "Garden and eat" was all halflings were good for the professor herself had said.

Thorin drove his black '67 Chevy Impala with Balin, Fíli, and Kíli. Glóin was in her green Toyota Highlander with Óin, Dwalin, and Dís. The rest were packed into Dori's yellow Volkswagen Bus.

They had just turned onto the road when a mad bicyclist stopped in the middle of the road. Thorin slammed on the brakes and was almost hit by Glóin.

Bramble Baggins waved her arms in the air, contract in hand. "I SIGNED IT!"

Balin got out of the car. Hobbits who were behind the Dwarves began honking their horns. Thorin got out of the Impala as well.

"Are you mad, Baggins?" Thorin said.

"Definitely!" Bramble said.

Thorin cocked his head to the side as he realized the Hobbit was wearing gym shoes like a necklace. "Definitely mad."

"Everything appears to be in order. Welcome, Professor Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield," Balin said.

Bramble smiled with the grin of child receiving birthday presents. "Thank you."

Dwalin got out of the SUV. "We have a bike rack on the bus. Come on."

Nori hooked Bramble's bike to the top of the van. Dwalin threw the Hobbit into the Volkswagen.

"If any of you want to leave, get out now. Otherwise, we're going," Thorin said before getting back into the Impala. As he glanced in the rear view mirror, he saw Dís give the thumbs up from Glóin's car.

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"So, what should we call you?" Bofur asked, "We all know how much you 'love' Belladonna."

"I don't have a preference," Bramble said, "So, where are we going first?"

"We are meeting the wizard past Indianapolis, professor," Dori said.

"Well, it's been a long time since I've been there. Lovely children's museum," Bramble said, "There are several historical markers along the way and some other museums and historical sites might…"

"I highly doubt we will be stopping for historical markers," Bombur said.

"We're going to Wal-Mart, aren't we? I need to pick up some supplies," Nori said.

"You are not going to be pick-pocketing people at Wal-Mart!" Dori said.

"Of course not! I was going to rob the store!" Nor said.

"Why you little… you're joking, aren't you?" Dori said.

Nori laughed. "Of course I am. I'm reformed. I'm a proper Dwarf now."

"And Dwalin will kick you so hard you will fly all the way back to Erud Luin," Bofur said.

"And that," Nori said.

"Thorin will give you the most terrifying glare in the history of glares," Ori said.

"And that too," Nori said.

"And Balin will be disappointed," Dori said.

Nori stiffened. "That above all."

Bramble sat up straighter but said nothing. She did not want to seem overly curious, but she knew there was a story.

Nori noticed the Hobbit's change in body language. "You want to hear the story, lass?"

Bramble nodded eagerly.

"Well, it goes like this," Nori said. She began braiding her long, red hair into multiple braids. "I'm a thief, you see, but I have only been stealing under orders now. Secrets and the like. It didn't used to be this way. I stole from anyone who looked rich enough to take the hit. Things were hard for a lot of years in Erud Luin. I didn't want my sisters starvin'.

"Eventually, I was caught stealing from this Dwarf who turned out to be the adviser of the king. He doesn't look it, but Balin is a great warrior. A bit slower than back in the days when King Thrór was still alive, but he can still pack a wallop. He broke my nose when he caught me picking his pocket. Balin dragged me to his office and I thought for sure I was going to die. I recognized the insignias of his position in his office. I was thinking of all the ways I was going to die when Óin walks in. He says he's there to fix my nose." She pointed to her nose. "Did it perfectly the first try. I doubt even those stinkin' elves could do it.

"Dwalin walks in and I just about wet my pants. You've seen Dwalin. The man is bigger than a bear and looks like he could rip your arms off like they were a piece of bread. Balin goes, 'Brother, I found someone who might be useful to you.' Turns out, they needed a spy amongst the thieves. Keep an eye on things. They need to know when a big score is about to go down. Dori, apparently, is friends with Balin so he knows who I am and what I've been up to and how upset my big sis is about my work.

"So, that's what I've been doing until, well, I was caught by other thieves. I needed to get out of town and Balin said he was going to Indiana with my sisters. No one in their right mind would go to Indiana, but it was gettin' too hot for me so that's how I ended up here." Nori finished off her braids. They were three individual braids which were wrapped together to create a single braid.

"Wow," Bramble said, "That's an amazing story!"

"I know. Balin has been keepin' an eye on me like any old uncle would since then. He got Ori a job workin' as a scribe and we have dinner once a week," Nori said, "That includes Dwalin. He's an old softie. Very protective of the king and his family, of course. If you are on his good side, you will be safe for the rest of your life."

Until Wal-Mart, they all told stories about themselves and the company. Dori ran a successful tea business. Ori was a scribe. Bombur was a mom with a record setting amount of children: fourteen in total. Bofur and Bifur were both toy makers and miners. Bifur had been badly injured in a war and had an ax in his head which was only removed thanks to modern surgical techniques about a decade before. He could no longer communicate except through hand signs or in an ancient form of Khuzdul no one understood all the time except for Gandalf. Óin was a doctor. Glóin worked in the tinder business, was married, and had a young son named Gimli. ("Never ask about Gimli. She'll never shut up.") Balin was adviser to Thorin while Dwalin was head of the guard. Fíli and Kíli were barely of age and had not done anything particularly interesting yet, though Fíli had a talent for working with computers. Dís was a mechanic and had been married, but her husband had died in a mining accident. She currently helped with keeping the community peace in Erud Luin. Discussions about Erebor were avoided.

Throughout the stories, they would sing as loud as they could when their favorite songs came on the radio. There was a rousing rendition of "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen. There was a much fist pumping when "Don't You (Forget About Me)" by Simple Minds played. The whole car was shaking when "Send Me On My Way" by Rusted Root came on a little bit before they arrived at Wal-Mart.

Thorin was in a foul mood when they stopped at the Wal-Mart fuel station. "The wizard is not here," he said.

"A wizard is never late," Bramble said in a gruff voice, "Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to."

Dís hopped onto the trunk of the Impala. "What now?"

"We wait for an hour and then leave without him," Thorin said. He rubbed his eyes. "Now is as good a time as any for your lessons, Baggins."

"What lessons?" Bramble asked.

Thorin glared at her. "Didn't you read my note and the addition to the contract?"

"I saw the note, but didn't have time to read it," Bramble said.

Balin popped out of the car with the contract. He flipped it open and read from a paper which folded out from the rest of the contract. "Professor Belladonna Bramble Baggins will be given lessons in the languages of Dwarves during the trip and free access to the libraries of Erebor if they remain intact after the reclaiming of the Lonely Mountain."

"What?" Bramble said, "Are you joking? This is a terrible joke."

"You didn't know when you signed?" Thorin asked.

"No! I wouldn't have signed! It's a terrible thing to say. Dwarves never teach their languages to outsiders. You know it's what I would want. I am going home," Bramble said.

She turned to leave but Thorin grabbed her arm. "I would never joke about what my people hold sacred. You do not want gold, but you want knowledge. I am willing to pay it if I will have my burglar."

Bramble looked ready to cry. "Really? I'll… the languages? The books?"

Thorin nodded. He realized he had been holding her arm for some time and let her go. "All of it. Only if you answer this: why come if not for the information?"

Bramble rubbed her eyes. "I… I suppose because… I needed an adventure and you need an overly educated burglar." She smiled. "What does everyone like to eat?"

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A/N: Lembas to anyone who points out a certain car reference. The historical markers are purely because my mother stops at every single one if she is driving. One time she almost got hit by a semi-truck.


	8. Chapter VIII: The Company Goes to Wal-Ma

Chapter VIII: The Company Goes to Wal-Mart

Beta is the terrific TriciaOakenshield on .

A/N: Bramble inspired by notbecauseofvictories on Tumblr for her Angel Coulby photo set. Special thanks to The Hobbit Movies on Google+ recommended by for transcripts for the films.

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Dís watched the professor run around to various members of the company to find out their favorite foods, particularly candy. Bramble looked as if she would burst from joy.

"Baggins!" Thorin said.

The Hobbit ran over. "Yes, sir?"

Thorin took out his wallet and pulled out forty dollars. "Buy boots. We don't need a burglar with poison ivy on her feet. Do you have jeans?"

"Yes," Bramble said.

"Go," Thorin said.

Bramble nodded and ran to the store. She hopped as she slid on her gym shoes while she ran.

"She. Skips," Thorin grumbled.

Dís patted her brother's shoulder. "I think she's just happy. Not all of us can be as… majestic as you."

Thorin glared. "Are you mocking me?"

"It's in the job description for baby sisters," Dís said.

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After filling up the cars with fuel, they parked at the end of Wal-Mart's parking lot. Bramble came back a half hour later with several paper shopping bags slung on her arms. One bag had rain boots which were lilac in color with white polka dots. Dori, Nori, and Ori were still inside.

"I come with food!" Bramble said.

If there is one way to get the attention of a Dwarf…

The Dwarves save for Thorin, Balin, Dwalin, and Dís rushed over to the Hobbit. Bramble passed out packages of candy and different types of fruits. She placed Dori, Nori, and Ori's treats on their seats. She went over to the last four remaining Dwarves.

"Tangerine Altoids and an orange for Balin," Bramble said, "Snickers and a banana for Dwalin. Some orange Tic-Tacs and an apple for Dís. And for our leader, mint Tic-Tacs and an apple. I got the food for you two from Fíli and Kíli's recommendations. They weren't pulling one over me, were they?"

"No, this is lovely," Dís said.

"Oh, right," Bramble said. She pulled out thirty dollars and some change from her pocket. "I got the boots. Bit of a sale. Thank you."

Thorin said nothing, but he was certain that whatever boots she had bought, the Hobbit had spent some of her own money on it.

"No Gandalf?" Bramble asked.

"No. The wizard is not here yet," Balin said.

Bofur ran up with a shopping cart. "Professor, are you up for a cart race?"

Bramble tossed her purchases into the Volkswagen bus. "Yes!" She hopped into the cart. "ONWARD TO VICTORY!"

Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose. He should have had warriors, an army at his side, to retake Erebor. He should not be dealing with children who had cart races in the parking lot of Wal-Mart.

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Gandalf's grey Oldsmobile pulled up next to the caravan fifteen minutes after the cart races had begun. Nori and Ori participated along with everyone else save the elder Durin siblings, the sons of Fundin, Óin, and Dori. There were no clear winners as the racers kept using the carts as bumper cars to knock their competition out of the running before being hit right back. The group came back when they saw Gandalf approach the older Dwarves.

"Well, everyone seems to be here," Gandalf said.

"You're late," Thorin said.

"A wizard is never late. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to," Gandalf said.

Balin tried not to smile as he saw Bramble mimicking the wizard.

"Do stop it, Bramble. You are not doing a very good job of mocking me," Gandalf said without turning around.

Óin elbowed Nori. "Come on, Nori, pay up. Go on."

Money began exchanging hands among many (but not all) of the Dwarves. Bramble walked over to Gandalf. "What's that about?"

"Oh, they took wagers on whether or not you'd turn up. Most of them bet that you wouldn't," Gandalf said.

Bramble looked at Gandalf suspiciously. "What did you think?"

Gandalf caught a roll of cash. "My dear, I never doubted you for a second."

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Gandalf and Thorin pulled out a book of maps of North America and began plotting their course. "We should avoid major highways," Thorin said, "We could go cross over into Illinois, go straight down all the way to Texas, make a right, and we'll be in New Mexico."

"Just make sure you take that left at Albuquerque," Bramble said.

Thorin raised an eyebrow to show his displeasure.

"Everyone loves Bugs Bunny," Bramble mumbled.

"I have a different plan, Thorin," Gandalf said, "We should go through Kentucky and Tennessee. At least as far as the Cumberland Gap."

"I will not go to the elves," Thorin said.

"You need to have those moon runes translated," Gandalf said.

"The elves will delay us," Thorin said.

"It's about a six hour drive and you are still going south," Bramble said, "And the elves are the ones who are most likely to be able to read the runes. If Gandalf can't, you have to go to an even older source."

"Are you calling me old, young lady?" Gandalf said.

"You are at least as old as the Shire, Gandalf. Yes, you're old," Bramble said.

Thorin huffed. "Fine, but only because we are going south. Any delay will be your doing, wizard."

It began to rain.

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They had driven for an hour before having to pull over at a visitor center rest stop. The rain came down so hard they could no longer see the yellow and white lines of the road even with Gandalf's (probably illegal) headlights. They all ran into the shelter and were soaked from the effort.

The visitor center was a brick building. In the lobby was an information desk was unmanned. To the right was the women's bathroom and to the left was the men's. There were four vending machines and several racks of pamphlets for Indiana. In the back was another set of glass doors which matched the front, only this one led to green grass where visitors could stretch their legs or walk their dogs. It was cold, dark, and smelled just on the wrong side of uncomfortable.

"Wizard, can't you do something about this deluge?" Dori asked as she tried wringing water out of the shirt she still wore.

Gandalf shook his blue-grey fedora. "It is raining and it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard."

"Are there any?" Kíli asked.

"What?" Gandalf asked.

"Other wizards?" Fíli clarified.

Gandalf took out some lemon drops. "There are five of us. The greatest of our order is Saruman the White. Then there are the two Blue Wizards…. you know, I've quite forgotten their names."

"And who is the fifth?" Ori asked.

"Well, that would be Radagast the Brown," Gandalf said.

Bramble said, "Is he a great Wizard or is he... more like you?" She wriggled her eyebrows.

Gandalf huffed. "No lemon drops for you. I think he's a very great wizard, in his own way. He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands of this continent, and a good thing too, for always Evil will look to find a foothold in this world."

"Oh no!" Kíli shouted. He ran outside with Fíli close behind.

"What's wrong?" Bramble said.

Before anyone could follow them, Fíli came in with a young boy who was about ten years old wrapped in her coat. Kíli came in after his sister, helping a woman with two bags.

"I'm so sorry," the woman said, "The bags were such a hassle and…"

"No worries, ma'am," Kíli said, "I am still soaked, so it's no problem."

The boy removed Fíli's coat. "Thank you. It was very kind of you."

"It was the decent thing to do," Fíli said. She ruffled the boy's brown hair. "Besides, my mom would kick my butt if she knew I could of helped someone and didn't."

Dís smiled at her daughter. "That's right."

"A, Mithrandir!" the boy said. He ran over to the wizard. "Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn."

"Mae g'ovannen!" Gandalf said. He gave a lemon drop to the child.

"Le fael!" the boy said.

The woman spoke to Gandalf for a moment. She was anxious, but Gandalf seemed to calm her.

"Company," Gandalf said, "This is an old friend of mine, Gilraen and her son."

The boy bowed to the company. "Estel, at your service."

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A/N: I want to see kid Estel in Rivendell in the movies. Unfortunately, the dates are a bit of a mess in the LOTR movies because it is 60 years from the reclaiming of Erebor to Bilbo's party, but another 17 years before Frodo goes on his quest. Gandalf seems to make decent time in the movies is a bit faster than 17 years. I was rather terrified by how much Sindarin I remembered even though it has been almost a decade since I studied it at all.

Translations of Sindarin - Thanks to Arwen-Undomiel.

A, Mithrandir! - Hi, Grey Pilgrim/Wanderer! (This is the name the elves call Gandalf.)

Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn. - A star shines upon the hour of our meeting.

Mae g'ovannen! - Well met! (Familiar)

Le fael! - Thank you! (Literally - You are generous! (Reverential).


End file.
